


I see the love light in your eyes

by larrycaring



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Foot 2 rue, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, I mean they still go to school, I'll put the image in the notes, LITERALLY, LouisandHarry are oblivious... the usual, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neighbors, Neighbours, Niall is like the Captain of the ship, No Smut, Pining, Port, Sea, Slow Dancing, Small Towns, Teenage Harry, Teenage Liam, Teenage Louis, Teenage Niall, Teenage Zayn, actually every time he talks, and it just didn't fit idk, and the football thing is inspired by an anime I used to watch, because yunno... I suck, but I didn’t do much description of the match because I suck at descriptive paragraphs so yeah, but everyone knows, even in this universe LARRY IS REAL, every time Harry asks the question ‘what do you mean’, football au, he gets interrupted lmao the disrespect, larry is real, larry stylinson - Freeform, nautical tattoos, nevermind that, of course, of course as I always say: LouisandHarry are soul mates, one direction - Freeform, school au, so real, soul mates, the poor guy gets interrupted, they're twin flames, this fic is inspired by a prompt I saw on Twitter, we're talking about larry, yeah they live in a small town by the sea, yes :)))
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as Harry can remember, Louis has always been his best friend. </p><p>There are a few constant things in Harry’s life: his family, this town he’s grown up in, and Louis.</p><p>He had his other friends, of course, but Louis had always been and still was the person that Harry was closest to. Maybe it was due to the fact that they live next to each other, and that, since the first night they’d talked, when he and Louis shared a conversation on their conjoining roofs, they instantly hit off, and a friendship developed. Or maybe it was that Louis was always so cheeky, almost the opposite of Harry, but it complimented Harry’s slow and thoughtful way of life perfectly. Either way, it just kind of happened.</p><p>or an AU where Louis and Harry are very much in love. Featuring football & late night rendezvous.</p><p>Translation of the fic in <span class="u">spanish</span> by <a href="https://twitter.com/lachrimose_">@lachrimose_</a>: click <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/story/88326444-i-see-the-love-light-in-your-eyes-l-s-traducci%C3%B3n">here</a> (wattpad)<br/>In <span class="u">russian</span> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hewassixteen">Hewassixteen</a>: click <a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/4724991">here</a> (ficbook)<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	I see the love light in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by this image (credit to the-cosmic-life (who deactivated their tumblr though)):
> 
> It was supposed to be real quick short fic, honestly... I didn’t even think I was going to hit 2K words... And now, here we are.
> 
> WELL, this is just a fic to fill the gaps between my lack of new fics. I am working on a lot of fics, and I haven’t finished them yet. I've missed posting something, so I wanted to write a quick thing and post it before I leave for the holidays. But... That short Larry fic turned out to be a bit longer that what I planned for. But oh well, nevermind.
> 
> Title is from the song “Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton.
> 
> Many thanks to my friend Liz (twitter: [@Dont_Stop_Larry](https://twitter.com/Dont_Stop_Larry) // AO3: [Dont_Stop_Larry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_Stop_Larry)) for being my beta and taking time to correct and add things to my fic. Please, check out her fics! :)
> 
> Thank you so much [@fairfoxspring](https://twitter.com/fairfoxspring) for the Larry edit! I love it.
> 
> Hope you’ll enjoy it guys!

For as long as Harry can remember, Louis has always been his best friend. 

There are a few constant things in Harry’s life: his family, this town he’s grown up in, and Louis.

He had his other friends, of course, but Louis had always been and still was the person that Harry was closest to. Maybe it was due to the fact that they live next to each other, and that, since the first night they’d talked, when he and Louis shared a conversation on their conjoining roofs, they instantly hit off, and a friendship developed. Or maybe it was that Louis was always so cheeky, almost the opposite of Harry, but it complimented Harry’s slow and thoughtful way of life perfectly. Either way, it just kind of happened.

Sixteen-year-old Harry is desperately trying to work out one of his many math problems on his homework when, out of the corner of his eye, a bright light catches his attention. He turns his head, looking out the window, and there, on the roof right across from his, so close to Harry’s own roof that Harry could have touched his foot, was the one and only Louis Tomlinson.

The boy is waving a torch in his hand with a very familiar smirk on his face. His hair is a mess, probably because Louis always messes up his hair when he changes shirts. He seems to be in his pyjamas, and when Harry glances at his phone, it says it’s almost ten in the evening.

Louis arches an eyebrow, silently waiting for Harry to get up and join him on his roof.

Harry sighs and decides that he’d much rather talk to Louis than do another math problem, and he doubts that he’ll figure out the answer anytime soon.

He stands up from his desk chair and heads toward his single window, lifting it up.

“Finally,” Louis exclaims as Harry crawls out and settles on his roof. “I thought you’d never come out.” He raises one single eyebrow – Harry wishes he knew how to do that too – and turns off his torch. “What important thing, other than me, of course, was having all your attention?”

 _You always have all my attention_ , Harry wants to say. But he doesn’t.

“I was just trying to finish my homework,” Harry sighs. “Unfortunately, maths is not my best suit.”

Louis makes a sympathetic face. “I gave up at the first line of the exercise.”

Harry gives him an incredulous face. “Oh, you actually opened your book? I didn’t think you had it in you, since you never bother to do your homework anyways.”

Louis huffs, playfully hitting Harry’s knee. After a pause, he speaks: “You seemed pretty into it though, very deep thoughts as you were staring at that book.”

 _I was thinking of you,_ Harry wants to respond. But here again, he doesn’t say it aloud. There are a lot of things he’d like to say to Louis. But he can’t.

He only shrugs in response, and it seems to be the end of that conversation, as Louis launches himself in the latest gossip at school.

“Did you know that Irving Haynes is dating Louise Davis?” Louis asks. “Who would have guessed, huh?”

“I would,” Harry says, and he shrugs when Louis gives him an unbelieving look. “What? Honestly, Irving’s crush was explicitly obvious.”

There’s a silence, only disturbed by the ruffling sound of Louis’s pyjamas as he shifts. He seems troubled, but Harry isn’t sure why. “Really?” Louis asks after a pause. “That obvious? You knew about his crush?”

Once again, Harry shrugs. 

Louis looks away, watching the horizon. His profile is very pretty, Harry has always thought so. He has a cute nose, and his face is just... Pretty. And smooth. Louis is just a great person to sit and admire what he’s like. And Harry has done that a lot. He is doing it right now.

Louis says the next words faintly, as if he doesn’t want Harry to hear him: “It’s funny you notice that, yet you fail to see other things.”

Harry frowns, staring at Louis’ profile. “What do you mean?”

Louis’ head snaps toward him, as if he hasn’t expected Harry to hear him, let alone call him out on it. “I–”

“Louis!” A voice calls from Louis’ room, behind the closed door of his bedroom. It’s Jay, his mother. “Turn off the light and go to sleep, it’s a school night!”

“Yes, mom!” Louis shouts, rolling his eyes with a small smile.

“Goodnight Boo Bear!” Jay yells back. 

Harry smirks at the nickname, enjoying the flush on Louis’ cheeks. “She needs to stop calling me that,” Louis groans, turning around to climb over his window ledge and back into his room. Harry doesn’t move, observing him. And maybe he lets himself have a quick sneak peek at Louis’ bottom, but no one has to know.

Louis, now inside his room, turns to face Harry, his hands on the sill of the window. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Haz!”

Harry nods silently, and Louis gives him one last sly smile, closing his window and curtains. 

Harry is left alone on his rooftop, his friend being the silence of the night. He can hear the sea in the distance, a sound that always lulled him. He thinks of what Louis just said to him, but he can’t fathom what his best friend meant by it. He sighs softly and turns around, ready to join the arms of Morpheus.

~

The school bell rings, and Harry lets out a relieved sigh.

“All right, pencils down, everyone!” The teacher calls, announcing the end of the French exam. Harry loves French, but honestly his knowledge is actually quite limited. Even though Louis goes to France a lot and is pretty fluent in French, and often tries to help Harry with his studying, Harry can’t seem to memorise things. Louis is a good teacher, but he is also very good-looking. And it’s quite distracting.

“I smashed it!” Niall exclaims cheerfully as he and Harry exit the classroom. 

“Good for you,” replies Harry with a smile. “I’m glad this day is over. I’m exhausted.”

“Me too!” Niall nods. “Oh, by the way, are you still coming tomorrow, to practice?”

“Of course!”

See, the town Harry lives in is very small. Probably under 2,000 inhabitants. Everyone knows each other, and they’re like a big happy family. The kids around the city had got hold of one common hobby: football, and by themselves, they organised a Street Football World Cup. Quickly, it became a thing that everyone who was anyone wanted to be involved in.

The game itself consists of a stripped down version of soccer, meant to be accessible to all children regardless of money and social status, and in any location. Each team has five players, and obviously Louis is part of the team, along with Niall and Liam. Andy, Liam’s best friend, and Stanley played too, and together they made a great team. Harry played for a while, when the game wasn’t taken too seriously, but football has never been his strong suit, and since the competition got extremely serious, Harry prefers to be a cheerleader rather than a player. He’s fine with it. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t kick the ball now and then with Louis, though.

Speaking of Louis, he’s sitting at a rooftop bar, a drink in his hand. When summer is close like that, and that the sun decides to show itself, Harry and his friends like to gather at the nearest bar after school. The establishment is held by a lovely middle-aged woman named Catherine, who loves them and secretly (not that secretly) roots for Louis’ football team. Because, of course, Louis is captain of the team, and Louis almost never loses.

Harry observes Louis, watching the boy speak, and everyone around him laugh. He was probably telling a joke, and of course everyone laughs. Louis is by far the funniest person Harry has ever met, and he has this comfortable air around him that makes everyone want to be his friend. Harry doesn’t know how Louis does it, maybe because he, himself, fell for Louis. But who could blame him? Louis is just that charming, even though Louis always argues and says Harry is the charming one.

Harry’s train of thought is abruptly interrupted by Niall nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Harry shakes his head, frowning at his friend beside him. “What? You were talking?”

Niall ignores the question, instead rolling his eyes. “Are ya gonna tell Louis yet?”

Harry tries hard not to blush a bit at the mention of Louis’ name and looks Niall in the eye, not exactly comprehending. “Tell him what?”

Niall huffs, shaking his head. “Stop acting like I’m a fool. Or like everyone else is a fool, for that matter. We all know you like Louis more than a friend.” Niall says it softly, but with a teasing tone as he wiggles his eyebrows.

Harry looks around, just to check that no one walking near them had heard the blonde lad. “Will you shut up about it? I am not– I–” Harry tries to argue, but he gives up with a groan as Niall bursts into laughter. “Am I that obvious?”

“Of course, or at least as obvious as Louis is.”

Harry frowns, now very confused. “What do you me–”

“Hey lads!” Niall exclaims as they reach Louis’ table.

Harry huffs, because Niall is so rude, but then his eyes meet Louis’ and he forgets why he was offended in the first place.

“Hey Lou,” Harry greets, and Louis’ smile is honestly the highlight of his day. This is how far gone he is for the blue-eyed boy.

“Hey H, how was your day?” Louis inquires, letting Harry drink his lemonade. Sharing is caring, right? Harry finds it really sweet that Louis asks about his day, despite the fact that they have most of their classes together. All their classes, actually, except for a few, including French.

“Mmh, good. I think I failed my French test, but otherwise I’m alright.”

Louis rolls his eyes, used to Harry always underestimating himself. “I’m sure you smashed it.”

“Well, I don’t know about Harry,” Niall intervenes, “but I definitely smashed it. Thanks for asking, Louis.” He’s smiling while saying it, so he isn’t really mad, and as Niall said, _everyone_ knows Louis has a soft spot for Harry. Everyone but Harry, apparently.

The boys around the table laugh, and it’s only then that Harry remembers that there are other people at the table besides Louis. He salutes his other friends, Liam and Andy, with a nod, having seen them earlier anyway.

“Where’s Stan?” Niall asks Louis.

Louis’ answer is a smirk. “He’s currently chasing after Amelia.”

Niall almost drops his phone on the table. “The girl he has a crush on?” Louis nods. “Jesus Christ, glad he finally got his act together.”

Harry laughs, mostly because of Niall’s irish accent and how he says it. “I didn’t know Stan had a crush on her,” Harry says.

Louis makes a satisfied sound next to him. “Oh, so you do _not_ know everything, then.” And Harry knows he’s referring to their conversation last night. He rolls his eyes playfully, a smile on his lips. 

“Do ya think Stan’s gonna invite her to the town party on Friday night?” Niall asks.

Every year, before the summer holidays start, the city holds a huge festival/ball at the centre place of the city: the esplanade. It’s one of the best nights of the year, and Harry only has good memories of it. He remembers when he was six and how he begged for his mother to buy him candy-floss, how he, still to this day, always dances like an idiot with his friends on the dance floor. He remembers the first time Louis got wasted at fourteen years old, mainly because of Niall. They were all hiding behind a building, far from the place, and Niall dared Louis to drink several beers in less than five minutes, and Louis, never being one to back down from a dare, did it. He remembers, on the same night, when Louis attempted to join Harry for their usual night routine, and that Harry honestly feared that Louis would fall from the rooftop. He had to convince Louis to go to bed, yelling at his best friend and compromising, promising him they’ll spend the next day together watching movies. Then he had closed the window of his bedroom, when he made sure that Louis was safely tucked in his bed, and the next day, they did a movie marathon, as promised, while Louis complained about his hangover.

As the years passed, it was common that teenagers wanted to invite a date for the usual slow dance of the night. Harry never thought of inviting anyone, because he always went to the festival with his friends, and they usually skipped the slow dance part to do something stupid. But now it seems like everyone among his comrades wanted a partner.

“I’m going to invite Idris...I like her,” Niall proclaims, and Liam claps him on the shoulder, telling him it’s a good choice.

“What about you, Harry?” inquires Andy. Of course, he had to ask.

Harry’s mouth chases the straw of his (Louis’) drink, and he gapes at his friends. “Erm, I don’t really know?” he answers. “I haven’t given it any thought, to be honest.” Honesty was Harry’s principal personality trait, unless it was about his feelings towards Louis.

Louis smiles at that, seeming oddly pleased.

“And you, Lou?” Andy presses further.

Louis points at Harry without saying anything, before realising what it might mean. It looks, at least to Harry, like he’s pointing at Harry, saying he’s asking him out to the ball.

The boys fall silent around the table, including Harry, who stares at Louis incredulously, not even daring to believe it. Then Niall chokes on his drink, and Liam has to pat him on the back, a worried look on his face.

“I mean,” Louis adds quickly, glancing at everyone except for Harry, avoiding his best friend’s gaze. “Same as Harry.” He shrugs and decides to give his full attention to his drink. “I don’t know who I’m going with.” 

Then Niall excuses himself to the loo, laughing behind his hand. Niall is a very bad friend, Harry decides.

~

After Harry brushes his teeth, he makes his way to his bedroom, turning off the ceiling light and opting instead for his bedside lamp. He glances at the window and sees no Louis waiting for him outside. He chews on his lip and lies down on his bed, deciding to read a book while he waits for Louis.

His mind instantly goes back to the bar incident (as Niall likes to call it) and wonders if his tiny (big) crush on Louis is blinding his thoughts and that Louis didn’t mean anything by his pointing finger, or if maybe...He doesn’t know. Like, surely Louis did _not_ mean to invite Harry, because he and Harry are just best friends, so it’s not like Louis is obliged to invite him...Even though they always do everything together, and they’ve always gone to the festival together...but this is different.

But... Harry wants to go to the party with Louis.

The sudden realisation hits him. Fuck, he wants to tell Louis everything. Tell him about his little crush, because he doesn’t want Louis to invite another person. But he isn’t going to do it, because he isn’t sure about Louis’ feelings. And honestly, he could be wrong. Wrong about all the little sweet attention and gestures from Louis. Wrong about the way Louis seems to look at him sometimes. Wrong about–

Harry starts when his phone vibrates on his bedside table.

**From: Lou xx  
_I’m here_**

Harry lifts his eyes from his phone to look out the window, and indeed, Louis is sat on his rooftop, smiling at him. 

“Were you really reading that book or were you just lost in your thoughts again?” Louis asks in lieu of greeting when Harry climbs out his window.

Harry sits crossed-legged, frowning at him. “How would you know if I was lost in my thoughts and not reading?”

Louis gestures at his own face. “You always get that pensive face on. Furrowed eyebrows, lips pursed...” 

_You seem to observe me an awful lot,_ Harry wants to say.

“Well, of course I observe you,” Louis answers, and shit, Harry said it aloud. “I’m a murderer. I need to know my victim before I kill them.”

He says it so seriously that Harry lets out a strange barking laugh. He claps his hand over his mouth, his laugh echoing in the night.

Louis seems pleased, just like earlier at the bar. He is pleased because he likes to make people laugh, but there is something just a bit more gratifying in making Harry laugh at his stupid jokes.

“D’ya want some?” Louis asks, holding out a box full of cookies.

Harry had just brushed his teeth, but he can’t refuse a little snack, especially from Louis. When they were little, he and Louis used to always sneak out on their roofs and share candies, talking for hours without their parents knowing. Well, eventually they found out, but that’s another story.

“I made them earlier with Lottie,” Louis informs with a smile.

Harry lets out a soft moan when he bites into the biscuit. “Delicious,” he sighs.

When he looks up at Louis, the boy is staring at him. He quickly regains himself however, shaking his head and smiling at Harry. “Thanks.” Pause. “Sorry for taking so long to come out, the twins wanted me to tell them a bedtime story.”

“No problem, Lou,” Harry says, smiling at the picture of Louis telling a story to his younger sisters. Louis is honestly the sweetest with his sisters. In fact, not only with his sisters, but with kids in general. The youngest kids in the city kind of look up to him, because Louis is their little idol in football. So yeah, Louis is basically liked by everyone. But no one likes Louis as much as Harry does.

Harry is instantly hit with the memories from earlier, at the bar. He wants to ask Louis, he wants to be bold for once, but he doesn’t know if he should do it. The night and the comfort of being alone with Louis make him want to say it, but–

“What is it?” Louis asks, staring at Harry with furrowed eyebrows.

Harry finishes his cookie, looking away. “What does make you think I have something to tell?”

He sees Louis opening his mouth but Harry beats him: “Oh, let me guess, I have that face on when I have something in mind?” He says it with a smile, though.

Louis snorts at him, throwing his hands in the air. “Okay, don’t tell me if you don’t want to.” 

Harry looks down at his lap, his fingers playing with the fabric of his sweatpants. Should he? Should he be brave and dare to ask?

The wind blows, and Harry inhales the oxygen, then sighs deeply. When he looks at Louis, the boy is watching him with an amused expression, waiting.

“Well,” Harry starts, his eyes drifting to the street below them. “Will you...” 

He sees out of the corner of his eye that Louis is tilting his head. “Will I...what?” He sounds amused. “Spit it out, Harold.”

“Will you go to the annual festival with me?” Harry says it as quickly as he can, so fast that he’s pretty sure Louis didn’t understand a word of it. He had closed his eyes as he said it, so that he couldn’t see Louis’ reaction. When the only reply is the silence, Harry reluctantly opens his eyes to deduce Louis’ response by his facial expression somehow, because apparently Louis can’t speak.

Louis’ lips are slightly parted, surprise painted on his face. He’s staring at Harry with a slight widening of the eyes, and...A coy smile. “Well,” Louis finally says, and Harry prepares himself to be turned down. “You beat me to it, Harold.”

Harry frowns in slight confusion as to why Louis isn’t rejecting his offer. “What do you m–”

“I mean that I was going to ask you, but you did it before I could.” If Harry’s not mistaken, he can see Louis blushing, not really looking at Harry anymore.

Harry finds his corners of his mouth twitching up by themselves. “Really?”

Louis slightly nods, chewing on his lip. When his eyes finally meet Harry’s, they gaze at each other. Louis’ mouth opens to speak the next words: “So... Will you?” 

Harry is startled. “Will I... What?” he smirks.

Louis rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking too. “Will you come to the festival with me?”

“Was I not the one who asked you first?” 

“Well,” Louis tilts his head, “technically you just blurted out the words, but–”

Harry gasps, mock-offended. “Hey! I can always take them back, you know!”

Louis chuckles, rolling his eyes again. “Then yes, I’ll go the festival with you.” He bites his cheek and raises an eyebrow at Harry, waiting.

Harry beams. “I will go to the festival with you, too, then.”

They must be two idiots, gazing at each other with a huge smile on their faces. They don’t care.

“So, it’s settled then,” Louis says. He moves, heading back to his bedroom. Just like yesterday, he puts his hands on the sill of the window, a grin on his face. “See you tomorrow, sweetcheeks.”

Harry smiles broadly, turning his back to Louis and going back to his bedroom as well. When he turns around to face Louis, he tilts his head, a smirk on his face. “Goodnight, Boo Bear.”

~

“So you asked him!?” Niall asks for the tenth time on their way to their HQ after school. “You actually asked him!?”

Harry groans, rolling his eyes, but the thought of last night still brings a smile to his face. “Yes, Niall. I did.”

Niall cackles loudly, clapping him on the back (for the third time). “I am proud of you, son.”

Harry shakes his head, chuckling. It’s Thursday and Louis’ team, including Niall of course, are doing their last practice session before their match, on Sunday. It’s not just some random match. It’s the results of hard work and lots of training sessions, lots of different matches and pools, during the whole year, that got them to the finale.

Their HQ consists of a big courtyard behind an abandoned manufacturing plant that used to be a small factory. No one uses it besides Louis’ team, Dream Killers, because other teams have their own HQ, and everyone knows how to respect grounds.

There are other teams: Norfolk-in-Chance, Soup-A-Stars, The Wasps and Stunned Punts. But the one Dream Killers is affronting is Ball Busters (Zayn’s new besties, as Louis likes to call them). Harry might be biased, but Dream Killers is by far the best football team. And they have a great captain (Louis!!!), so that helps.

As Harry and Niall arrive at the HQ, Louis is already on the field with a ball at his feet, training with Liam. The latter catches the ball, performing some tricks with it, and in that short time of Louis not having the ball, he lifts his eyes and makes eye contact with Harry.

They gaze at each other, a smile tugging at Louis’ lips. Liam sends him the ball again, and Louis’ eyes drift away, as he turns his back to the practice session at hand.

“You two make me sick,” Niall declares with a grimace, but he’s smiling wide. 

Harry turns his head toward him, frowning. “You were the one encouraging me to get my shit together. You should be happy.” He raises his chin. “In fact, I reckon you’re the happiest guy regarding the development of mine and Louis’ relationship.”

Niall arches an eyebrow at Harry’s words, then chuckles. “I love you.” He makes his way toward the factory, getting ready to change. “I hope everything turns out well for you on Friday night!” He winks at Harry before hurrying off to change.

Harry huffs, silently hoping that Louis didn’t hear any of that. When he glances at his best friend, Louis scores a goal. He beams, watching Louis raising his fists in the air, while Liam’s face falls in defeat.

Harry spends the evening watching his friends play, cheering for them (especially Louis) now and then. He always loves watching them play, and even takes part in the matches (but not today, because they’re practicing for the finale), but it’s always nice. 

And he is fond of watching Louis in his element. He’s a natural, at least that’s what Harry thinks, and okay, maybe once again he is biased, but it’s not just him who thinks that, okay? Louis is just great, he knows how to play, and he is a good captain. And the smile on his face as he plays is the best thing in the world. Harry loves it. He loves him. Shit...yes he loves his best friend.

And as he watches Louis dribble the ball down the field, occasionally looking up at Harry, Harry can’t help but hope that his best friend might just feel the same way about him.

~

“Of course he feels the same, you silly boy!” Niall tells him as they’re washing their hands later. Okay so maybe the boys’ toilet room of the school isn’t the best place to talk, but it is the only moment of the day they could escape the rest of the group, and that Harry had a chance to voice his worries to Niall.

“How can you possibly know?” Harry asks, catching Niall’s arm before he opens the door. They aren’t done yet, okay.

Niall sighs, crossing his arms. “Well, I am always right. And you invited him to the party, and he said yes, yeah?”

“Erm, yes, but that doesn’t mean–”

“It’s a great start!” Niall interrupts, rolling his eyes. “And please, even a blind man could see you two like each other. I’d even risk myself to bet that it’s a bit more than ’like’, but–” He stops himself, as if he’s just gotten the biggest idea. “Oh, that’s what I should do! Bet with Liam!”

“Niall, I–” Harry pauses, registering his friend’s words. “You want to bet on me and Louis with Liam? What?” 

Niall shrugs innocently, patting him on the shoulder. “I guess we will all find out the outcome of this incredible story on Friday night, right?” He turns to open the door handle, before facing Harry. “Please, just tell him how you feel.”

And with that, Niall exits the toilets. Niall is definitely the shittiest (fitting word right here, you know, since they’re in the toilets) friend in the world.

~

For once, Harry is the first one sitting outside on his rooftop. He’s eating his dessert, a nutella puff pastry his mother baked. He’s even got one little slice for Louis on another plate that he discreetly took to his room. Even though he suspects his mother knows he always talks to Louis on their conjoining roofs every single night, he still likes to think of it as his and Louis’ little secret. But his mother knows everything, and Harry’s pretty sure Jay knows too.

“Hiya!” Louis greets after opening his window. He clumsily sits on the roof, sighing with envy when he sees what Harry’s eating. When the latter offers the other plate to him, Louis lets out a pleased groan. “You’re an angel.” 

“I know,” Harry answers in a whisper, smiling.

They eat the pastry in a comfortable silence, Harry glancing at Louis occasionally, trying to be subtle but probably failing (because Niall told him once that Harry is NOT subtle at all, and even though Niall is annoying, he’s quite often right). 

“Ready for Sunday?” Harry asks out of the blue, not really sure what made him say it, but Louis knows what he’s talking about.

Louis swallows his last bit of cake. “Of course,” he answers. His thumb is covered in nutella, and he brings it to his mouth to lick it. Harry tries not to stare. “Will you attend the match and cheer for us?” inquires Louis, as if he didn’t know the answer to this.

“Of course,” Harry echoes. Because _of course_.

Louis beams a sweet, satisfied smile. There are crinkles by his eyes, and under the moonlight (because how convenient, it’s the full moon), Louis is glowing white. He looks like a prince of the night. Or an angel. Shit, Harry really needs to go to sleep.

Harry wants to ask about Zayn, but he isn’t sure he wants to cast a cloud on their comfortable silence. But he doesn’t have to, because Louis does it.

“I still haven’t talked to him,” Louis informs, and of course Harry knows who ‘he’ is. 

Harry chews on his lip, hesitating. “Have you texted him?”

Louis lets out a breath. “ _He_ has. I didn’t answer.”

“Maybe you should–”

“Listen, if Zayn really wants to talk to me, we’re in the same school, he can come see me.” Well, he has a point. Louis must realize that he kind of shouted the words, because he throws an apologetic look at Harry. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay...” Harry smiles. “Remember,” he starts, “when your team–”

“Our team,” Louis corrects, and Harry smiles. Even though Harry is only their cheerleader, Harry is considered as part of the team in the eyes of his friends. Especially in Louis’ eyes.

“When our team got defeated by Stunned Punts?”

Louis snorts, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “Generally, it’s more motivating to be reminded of good memories before a match–”

Harry is quick to interrupt. “Wait till the end!” Louis gestures with a hand that he can continue. Harry huffs and ignores it. “I remember when you and the guys were so gutted because they defeated you, but you know what else I remember?”

Louis frowns, lips pursed. “No, what else?”

Harry shifts in his position, legs under him, facing Louis. “I remember you training so hard, and then motivating the boys and bringing back faith because they lost it. It was such an important match for all of you, and it’s stupid because we’re not even in a real competition.”

He doesn’t mention out loud that it is possible that recruiters come to see some matches sometimes, having heard of what Louis and the boys did in the city. Le foot de rue, they call it. Foot in the streets. He knows Louis’ dream, and Harry really hopes he’ll achieve it someday.

“But I know how much it means to you,” Harry continues, “and I know when I see it, when you always give one hundred percent on the field... And with the boys, you’re a great captain and I have no doubt you guys are gonna smash it this weekend.”

Harry doesn’t know why he had this sudden outburst. He just could see that under this layer of confidence, Louis wasn’t that confident. And that he doesn’t always seem to see the best in himself, so Harry has to remind him. That’s what best friends are for, right?

Louis is silent for a few seconds, staring at Harry in surprise, eyes wide. Like Harry, he seems surprised by this impromptu declaration. Then, his face splits into a giant smile. “Why, thank you, Harold.” More seriously, and in a soft tone, he adds with a bashful smile, “Really. It means a lot.”

Louis’ blue eyes are conveying what he cannot express but that Harry understands: gratitude and appreciation. His smile is timid, his face completely honest and skin slightly reddened on the cheeks. Harry finds him so cute. He doesn’t say it, though.

He just nods, beaming. That night, Louis goes to bed with a smile on his face, ultimately motivated for the match.

~

As Harry’s getting ready to go to school, in the bathroom, his sister Gemma decides it’s the right time to interrogate him about the festival tonight.

He’s currently brushing his teeth when Gemma’s head pops in, eyes narrowed at him. “Who are you going with to the party tonight? Your friends or...?” She doesn’t finish her sentence, shaking her head. “No, of course you invited no one.”

Harry spits in the sink, squinting at her. “If you must know, someone invited me. And I said yes.”

Gemma gasps and enters the bathroom, facing Harry with hands on her hips. “Who invited my baby brother?”

Harry rolls his eyes, focusing his gaze on washing his hands. “You know him.”

“Louis?”

Harry’s head snaps up at her, taken aback. “How did you know?”

Gemma snorts, rolling her eyes. “Please.” And that’s all she says before going downstairs. Was Harry _that_ obvious then?

~

The last day of school (at least, of this week, summer break being in one week) goes very slowly. Harry doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the weekend soon, or if it’s because he is very excited for the party tonight. It must be that, he’s always been excited about that. But along with excitement, Harry is also feeling...nervous? Yes, he’s nervous. Nervous about Louis, and their future slow dance. They’d never even danced together. Well, they did, but mostly when they were a bit tipsy. They never had a _slow_ dance together.

So Harry spends the rest of his last class biting his nails, very on edge and feeling apprehensive, yet eager, to be at the party.

~

He doesn’t know what to wear tonight. It’s not a fancy party, just something festive celebrated at the centre of the city, with everyone they know. He knows he ought to dress casual, but he wants to impress Louis. They agreed on meeting at seven o’clock, so that everyone would reunite at the esplanade and eat together.

Harry closed his curtains just in case, because the last thing he needs is Louis looking over and seeing Harry pulling out his hair because he doesn’t know what to wear.

“You need to chill, Harry,” Gemma says from the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

She’s dressed with a dress made from white, vivid red, dark purple, and brass fabrics. It has a long poofy skirt with a gathered waist and elbow-length gathered sleeves. She looks nice, and Harry dejectedly looks down at his choice of clothes on his bed.

Gemma rolls her eyes once again, walking toward him. “Let me help.”

Fifteen minutes later and Harry is finally dressed. He opted for a sleeveless shirt, coloured pistachio, and a pair of grey pants, as well as a pair of short boots. Gemma says pistachio looks good on him, so he trusts her.

A few minutes later, and Harry’s family is joined by Louis’ as they make their way to the centre of the town together.

Louis beams at Harry when he sees him. He is dressed as casually as Harry, yet the latter finds Louis very pretty. Okay, maybe he always finds Louis pretty, but he finds him especially pretty tonight.

He is wearing a wrap blue sky shirt (Harry loves when he wears it, it matches his eyes) with elbow-length gathered sleeves and a pair of loose black jeans, as well as a pair of Vans. That is to be expected, though, because Louis is always wearing his black Vans.

“Hey, Haz,” greets Louis with an alluring smile. Why is everything so perfect about him?

“Hey,” Harry answers in a whisper, suddenly feeling shy under Louis’ gaze.

They walk with their families, the twins showing Harry their braids that Lottie made, and he smiles at them, praising their hair. They both blush and giggle, and Lottie does the same when Harry compliments her on her own makeup. She’s only fourteen but is already insisting on painting her face, but it’s not too much, more like a natural makeup, and it really suits her.

“Stop trying to win them over, you know they’ve loved you since forever,” says Louis with a chuckle. 

Harry doesn’t answer, but instead asks a question, one that he had been wondering about all day. “Did you go train at the HQ today?” 

Louis’ pace slows, the boy seeming taken off guard. “How did you know?”

Harry playfully rolls his eyes. “You always do extra training before a match. And I saw you coming home from my window.”

Louis arches an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? So who’s observing who, now?”

Harry giggles. “Of course, as a murderer, I need to know my victim,” he says, repeating Louis’ words from a few nights ago. 

Louis grins, and before any of them can say anything else, Fizzy speaks in front of them, walking beside Gemma. 

“So Gemma, how’s your boyfriend?” teases Fizzy.

Louis gapes at Harry. “What, Gemma has a boyfriend?”

Gemma doesn’t turn around, only staring ahead and ignoring Fizzy. Harry guesses she’s trying to suppress a smile. Fizzy likes to tease Gemma a lot. They’re practically sisters, really. But he did not know about Gemma’s boyfriend, so he’s curious as well.

“Yeah Gemma, tell us about your boyfriend?” Harry guffaws.

Gemma spins so fast it startles Fizzy and makes Louis and Harry stop dead in their track. “Say no more Harold.” Her look is severe, a raised finger in the air. “Seriously, do not even try to pick on me because I have things on you, okay?” She wiggles her eyebrows with a devilish smile and turns around, resuming her walk.

“I’m curious to know, now,” Louis replies, a smirk making its way on his face.

“Oh, if only you knew...” Is the only thing Gemma says in response, and Harry is grateful for that because he might have an idea of what Gemma could say. Like the fact that Harry was in distress just a few minutes ago, because he couldn’t pick an outfit. And Gemma _knew_ it was because Harry wanted to impress Louis. (He also knows that Gemma wouldn’t betray him like this, but...You never know.)

They arrive at the esplanade soon after that, and Louis automatically spots their friends.

“The lads are there!” He exclaims, pointing at a table and tugging on Harry’s arm.

“Have fun, darlings!” Jay exclaims, and Anne blows a kiss to Harry.

They join Liam, Andy, Niall, and Stan at a table, which is also occupied by a girl with straight red hair worn short, a fair complexion, and dark brown eyes.

“Guys,” Andy says as a greeting, gesturing at the girl beside him. “This is my girlfriend, Margot. She’s from another town.”

“Hi, your hair is sick!” Louis says, grinning at her.

Margot beams, flattered at the praise. “Thank you!” Louis already has conquered her. Every new person Louis meets is automatically wrapped around his little finger.

“Hi,” Harry addresses with a nod, sitting on the bench, Louis following suit. The tables are all aligned; the esplanade is just full of them. It is a bit tight around the table, everyone’s knee touching others’, but the atmosphere is happy and lively.

Around the tables, on each side of the esplanade, there are food caravans serving everything and anything. The boys had already made their choices, so Louis and Harry stand up to order some chips and hot dogs.

They spend the whole dinner speaking way too loud, but everyone else is speaking loud around them, so no one pays attention to young teenagers having fun. Some old couples walk together, holding hands, and Harry smiles at that. He hopes he’ll be like that in the future, with his lover.

From time to time, they have to stop chewing on their food and greet people, because everyone, really _everyone_ knows everyone around here.

At the end of the esplanade, a stage had been built, and a band is currently playing some tunes. They can hear the music from where they’re sitting, and Harry is humming the song while tilting his head, finishing his hot dog.

He looks at Louis, who gives him a quick smile, before staring at Harry, his smile growing wider. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, so Harry inquires a: “What?”

Louis giggles softly. “You’ve got, erm, a bit of–” He gestures at the corner of his own mouth, before bringing a napkin to Harry’s mouth. 

Harry stills, not daring to move, as Louis delicately wipes his mouth. “There,” he says after a short silence, but to Harry it seems like ages. Louis drops the napkin on the table and beams at Harry.

“T–Thanks...” Harry stutters, incapable of saying anything else.

He needs to get his shit together. Otherwise he won’t make it through the night.

~

They’re already breathless and Harry’s limbs are shaking. In fact, his whole body is shaking with laughter because Niall and Louis just fell on the ground while they were doing a battle dance and it was honestly the most hilarious thing Harry had ever seen. His eyes are wet, and he realizes that he’s actually crying with laughter. He cannot stop laughing. He takes a deep breath, his giggles dying down, and realizes that he’s thirsty. He starts making his way toward a caravan, going for a cool drink.

He wipes away his tears while he orders a coca-cola (because it’s only half past ten, and his mother is still around somewhere anyway) and goes to sit at a table now empty, except for a few people and rest of dinner, dirty plates and spilled drinks on the furniture.

He observes his friends dancing on the dance floor, and spots some other friends from school, including one girl he sits next to in science, Ella. She waves at him, and he waves back, beaming at her.

“Harry!” A voice calls behind him, and he turns to see a familiar boy sit beside him.

“Hey, Nathan,” salutes Harry with a smile.

The sixteen-year-old boy with blue eyes, an olive complexion, and curly auburn hair brushed neatly back grins at him. He’s rather short, and a bit pudgy, but he is very charming. He’s wearing very colourful clothing. He and Harry had known each other forever, having been on the same sports team for a few years now. 

“Having fun?” Nathan inquires, sipping his beer. He told Harry he hated beers once, but apparently that had changed.

“Yes,” Harry replies. “And you? Where’s Billy?” Billy is Nathan’s best friend, and they’re inseparable, just like Louis and Harry.

Nathan pouts, posing his beer on the table. “With his girlfriend. I’m lonely. I was seeking company and saw you. Fate!” He giggles. He seems slightly drunk already.

Harry laughs, and they start talking about an assortment of things, starting with football and then somehow moving to horses, because apparently it’s Nathan’s ten-year-old sister’s new obsession.

Their bench is emptied apart from them, yet they’re sat close to hear each other above the loud blasting music. Their elbows, which are resting on the table, are touching, and Harry pulls back to check on his friends, who are a bit far away, not noticing Nathan’s falling face at the loss of touch.

He spots Louis walking toward them with brows knitted together. “Hi there,” he says when he arrives at the table, glancing from Nathan to Harry, but only smiling at Harry.

“Hey Lou,” replies Harry with the same smile.

Nathan waves at him. “Hey Tommo!”

Louis nods at him and holds one palm out to Harry. The latter shots him a questioning look, and Louis arches an eyebrow. “Come dance with me!” He pouts at Harry, making a puppy face.

Harry looks at Nathan, who snorts besides Harry, waving a hand. “Go, have fun.”

Harry beams at him. “Thanks!” He takes Louis’ hand, and climbs on the table (well yes, all the tables are positioned very closely, leaving no space for Harry’s body) and lets himself get pulled away to the dance floor.

The music changes to something energetic, and when they join their friends, Louis glances at Harry with a smile before dropping their hands. And then he kind of does something that surprises Harry. He leans in, mouth at his ear. “Later,” he whispers, and pulls away to dance, his body moving to the rhythm of the music.

Harry freezes where he’s standing, and it takes Niall’s stupid and wildly aggressive dance moves to snap Harry back to the present, and he started to dance, opting for that instead of standing stock still in the middle of a crowd of dancing people. He hears more than sees Louis laughing, and Harry blushes in embarrassment, focusing his attention on Niall.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” says Niall with a frowning face. “You should drink.” 

“Later,” answers Harry, and his cheeks are hot. Fuck, it’s hot.

~

Somehow, even though Niall never invited anyone to come to the party with him, he finds himself dancing with a lovely blonde-haired girl during the rest of the songs, and when the slow music fills the atmosphere, Harry’s breath stops, just like his body.

His eyes search for Louis, but he doesn’t find him. During the previous song, he lost him, and since, he hasn’t seen him.

He starts thinking of leaving the dance floor, but someone grips his arm and Harry spins, facing the sea.

Louis’ bright blue eyes are sparkling under the lights hung above them, and just like Harry, he’s sweating a bit because of all their dancing, so his skin is shining. His hair is dishevelled and Harry wants nothing more than to run his hand through it.

Louis holds out his hand with a flourish, a charming and playful smile on his face. “May I have this dance?” He asks, looking Harry in the eyes.

Harry beams as an answer, taking his hand. It’s smooth, just like he knew it would be... Louis just has perfectly smooth skin.

And then, Harry’s anxiety comes back at full speed. How should he position his arms? And hands? Sometimes when he embraces Louis, he wraps his arms around Louis’ thin waist, but–

Louis’ right hand finds its place on Harry’s hip, and Harry glances at it before looking up, smiling at Louis. He knows he’s slightly blushing, probably a lot, but so is Louis (unless it’s due to the fact he danced a lot, but Harry doubts it). Behind his confident smile, Harry knows better.

Louis’ left hand gently grasps his right hand, and Louis holds it up about shoulder-level. Louis is an inch taller than him, and he often complains about the fact that Harry is probably going to surpass him in size, and the thought makes Harry smile.

Harry’s left arm goes to Louis’ shoulder, and then, they start dancing to the song “Wonderful Tonight“, by Eric Clapton, performed by the middle-aged man on the stage who’s sitting on a wooden stool.

_It’s late in the evening; she’s wondering what clothes to wear._

Harry’s mind takes him to earlier, when he himself was wondering what to wear. His smile widens, he can’t hide it.

“What are you smiling at?” Louis quizzes, tilting his head with a small diffident smile.

Harry bows his head, trying to hide his smile and blush. “Nothing, Lou.”

Their movements are slow and smooth, not moving very much. They sway back and forth, moving in circle and the rhythm of the song. Harry doesn’t even pay attention to the other couples. 

_We go to a party and everyone turns to see,_  
_This beautiful lady that’s walking around with me._

They keep gazing at each other, rotating on the spot, their faces a few inches apart. 

_And then she asks me, “Do you feel all right?_  
_And I say, “Yes, I feel wonderful tonight.”_

And if you’d ask Harry, he’d answer the same thing. He feels wonderful, in a complete dream. He wants to kiss Louis right here, but he doesn’t. His green eyes stay focused on the sea in front of him. He’s afraid that if he looks away or moves one finger, he’d drown. So he lets Louis lead him, pulling on his hand in the direction he wants to go as they move to the beat.

 _I feel wonderful because I see._  
_The love light in your eyes._  
_And the wonder of it all,_  
_Is that you just don’t realize how much I love you._

They say people want to hear songs with the words they’re afraid to say, and right now Harry can relate. He really wants to kiss Louis, and tells him how he feels. But instead, he just blinks, and somehow his gaze is on Louis’ lips. He hastily looks up, expecting to meet Louis’ eyes, but instead, they’re on Harry’s mouth as well now, and then he looks up at Harry...

The song comes to an end, and they slowly stop in their movements, eyes still connected.

And then, Louis brings his hand to Harry’s cheek, cupping it. He leaves it for a few second, but to Harry, it seems like an eternity. The world around them is in slow motion, almost like it doesn’t even exist anymore. Harry is frozen, incapable of moving. Louis’ palm is warm against his cheek.

Harry wants Louis to kiss him.

But then Louis drops his hand in favour of grasping Harry’s. He gently raises Harry’s hand to his mouth, leaving a kiss on his skin while maintaining eye contact with Harry. “Thank you for the dance, Hazza.” 

It takes a few seconds for Harry to gather his words. “My pleasure,” he breathes out, a bit shakily. Damn, he can’t even control his voice.

And he is saved from more embarrassment when their friends join them, bursting the bubble.

Niall appears at their side, bouncing on his feet as if he’s about to announce the most amazing news of the year.

“Andy got us alcohol,” he says under his breath, looking around. “Let’s go? At the HQ?”

Louis and Harry look at each other. “Sure,” Louis answers, still looking at Harry with wide eyes, but throwing a smile at Niall. “Let’s go.”

~

They’re a bit drunk, well, especially Liam, Andy and Niall (Stan had vanished during the night, texting Louis that he was with his crush/future new girlfriend (Stan’s words)). Louis decided to stay sober and responsible for the night. He’d need it when he’d have to bring them all home.

So they’re completely plastered, and trying to score a goal after spinning around the ball. It’s a hard thing to accomplish while being drunk, because everything is spinning around you, and it’s difficult to score. So, needless to say, as soon as they try to spin around the ball, they always fall on the ground like pathetic shit, laughing like crazy, and never managing to throw a kick at the ball.

Harry is crying (again) of laughter, clutching at his tummy from his place on a barrel while trying to record everything with his phone in his left hand. “God, they’re pathetic,” he chuckles, and Louis titters besides him as he’s watching the boys, arms crossed over his chest. He looks like a dad surveying his children. It strangely sends shivers up Harry’s spine. It’s suddenly hot again, out here.

Harry is finally done laughing, and he inhales deeply, cheeks hurting. When he looks at Louis, his best friend is already watching him.

“What?” Harry giggles. He may have drunk a bit of beer, but only a little. He certainly wasn’t in a bad state like the others.

Louis half smiles, looking away and down at the ground. “Nothing.”

Everything around them suddenly disappears, and it’s only Louis and Harry, again. Everything else is blurry. And it may be thanks to the alcohol, because Harry says exactly what he wanted to say earlier.

“Thanks for tonight,” he says softly. “Especially for the dance,” he raises his hand in a cheer, and he realises he’s holding another beer. Is it his third beer, or his fourth one? Oops. Okay, maybe he’s (a bit) tipsy. “Was very very nice.”

Louis bites his lip, trying to hold a smile. Harry doesn’t know why he’s holding it back; Louis is very beautiful when he smiles.

“Why, thank you Harold,” Louis says, cheeks reddened. Harry frowns. Shit, he said that aloud. He really needs to invest in a filter. For his mouth. But maybe with a filter, he wouldn’t be able to kiss Louis? Shit, he hoped he didn’t say that bit aloud.

But Louis is watching the boys again, wincing. Harry looks over, and sees that Liam is on the ground, Niall above him. They seem to be struggling, limps tangled up together while Andy is slapping his knees, chortling.

“Move yar fucking leg, maaate!” Niall yells, and his Irish accent is thicker and more pronounced than usual with the alcohol.

“Alright,” Louis claps his hands together, making Harry jump. “Time to take this lot home.”

~

It’s a bit of a hard task, but the fresh air of the city, plus Niall being an annoying little shit, is enough to sober Harry up. He’s holding Niall, an arm wrapped around him to help him walk, and Harry has never been more thankful that they all live near each other, and that the city is somewhat modest in size.

They drop Niall off first, thank god, because Harry was starting to get tired of carrying him.

Niall hugs Harry gracelessly, his hot alcohol breath tickling Harry’s ear when he whispers to him: “Don’t forget our bet, Liam.” He’s in a worst state than Harry thought.

Harry rolls his eyes, pushing him away. “Go to sleep, Nialler.”

A few minutes later and they arrive at Andy’s house, the neighbourhood completely silent except for the boys (despite the fact that Harry keeps telling them to shut up).

“’M sleeping at Andy’s,” Liam decides, his words slurred, and Harry sighs in relief. They won’t have to walk more to reach Liam’s house, then.

“Good idea, mate,” Louis sighs, dropping his arm when he’s sure that Andy won’t fall. He does fall, against the wall of his house. 

Andy raises a finger to his mouth, eyes trying to focus on Liam. “Shht, we must– We must be cautious,” he hiccups, “not to wake my parents up.”

Liam nods, at least Harry thinks he nods, and when they’re sure they are safe inside Andy’s house, they leave to go home.

“Damn, these boys,” Louis chuckles as they walk together in silence.

“Yeah,” Harry says, and he shivers, feeling suddenly cold. He puts his hands in his pockets.

He’s startled when he feels a warm cloth being placed on his shoulders. He smiles at Louis, recognizing his favourite hoodie of Louis’ that Jay was carrying earlier. Louis must have got it back before they left for the HQ.

“Thank you, Lou,” Harry smiles on the gesture.

Louis grins, looking ahead of him. “Tonight was lovely,” he says, and Harry hums in agreement.

“Very lovely,” he whispers in response.

 _But you’re lovelier_ , Harry wants to say. This time, he makes sure not to say it aloud. He can be in control of his own voice, thank you very much.

Instead, he is surprised to feel his mouth opening, a yawn escaping his mouth. They’ve arrived at their houses, the world quiet around them.

Louis smirks at him, watching him. “Too tired to go up?” And Harry knows he means their usual night meetings, on their conjoining roofs. Harry and Louis never missed a night, except when one of them was really sick, and they couldn’t go out.

“’Course not. Just let me get ready for bed and I’ll join you,” Harry says, smiling softly. He would never miss spending more time with his best friend. His best friend that he likes very much.

Louis returns the smile. They’re in front of Harry’s door, and Harry sees Louis hesitate for a few seconds. He doesn’t know what’s the hesitation is for, but he sees Louis lean in slightly. Harry stills, but before he can think of anything, his best friend pulls away, a frown on his face. Louis clears his throat, waving at Harry. “See you in a few,” he says quietly, and he disappears behind his own front door, leaving a perplexed Harry standing there, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Was... Was Louis going to kiss him?

It’s the only theory Harry’s mind can think of as he enters his house, goes upstairs, brushes his teeth and puts on his pyjamas. When he looks out the window, Louis is only now coming out of his bedroom, sitting on the roof. He hasn’t noticed Harry yet. The latter allows himself a few seconds to take in his best friend from his dark bedroom. Louis is watching the horizon, eyebrows furrowed as if he’s deep in thought. As Harry makes his way toward his window, he wonders where Louis’ mind is.

“What got you thinking hard like this, Lou?” Harry asks with a chuckle as he sits on his rooftop.

Louis’ eyes fall on him. His curved lips suggest a smile, but his face is somehow thoughtful. “You,” he answers straightforwardly. If Harry hadn’t sat well on his roof, he would have probably fallen right off.

He feels his cheeks reddening, his whole body warming up. “Me?” He repeats, chuckling a little to cover up how shocked he is.

“You know, there are rumours,” Louis says next, and Harry hasn’t expected the sudden change of subject.

He frowns. “Rumours? About...?”

Louis looks away with an odd expression on his face. “Rumours about Nathan liking you.” 

“Nathan?” Harry hasn’t expected this either. His frown deepens, and he takes him a few more seconds to find his words. “Erm, I–”

“You didn’t know?” Louis looks at him again, his blue eyes piercing through the night. “Of course you didn’t. You never notice these things,” he says with a smirk.

Harry flushes. “What do you mean?” 

Louis sits upright, looking Harry in the eyes. “Well, you don’t notice when girls look in your way with shining eyes and hopeful expressions. And you don’t notice when boys flirt with you either.” 

Harry shakes his head, snorting. “Nathan wasn’t flirting with me–” And then, he doesn’t know if his next words are pronounced thanks to the alcohol still in his system, but he asks, with a small smirk: “Why? Does it bother you?”

“Yes.”

Louis’ honesty definitely keeps surprising Harry tonight. He flushes harder, his eyes not looking away from Louis’. He can’t look away. What is all of this supposed to mean?

“Is that a new best friend rule or something?” asks Harry. “I-don’t-like-those-people-flirting-with-you-it-bothers-me thing?” Harry giggles.

This time, Louis looks away. “Best friend,” he mutters, frowning. “No, Haz.” His eyes find Harry’s again. His expression is nothing but earnest. “It bothers me when people try to flirt with you because I do too, and you are so unaware of it. And of course I don’t like it when they all flirt with you.” 

Harry’s mind takes a few seconds to register Louis’ words. “What– You–” Harry can’t even pronounce a sentence. He’s flushing hard now, he’s sure of it. It feels hot up here, even though the night is cold.

Louis looks away again, a shy smile on his face. “As I said, you don’t notice these things.”

Harry’s mouth hangs open. “How am I supposed to know you’re... Flirting with me, when you act the way you act with me?”

This probably doesn’t make sense, and when Louis chuckles, Harry’s flush of embarrassment rises to his cheeks. “Stop laughing! I’m being serious. You aren’t the only one not noticing things! I’ve liked you for years and you never–” He cuts himself off. Shit. He hasn’t meant to say this.

However, that has Louis shut up on the spot, his laughter stopping.

Harry’s face is now on fire, and he contemplates if jumping right now off his rooftop would be a fatal fall.

After an eternity of them both staring at each other, Louis speaks up: “Well... I’ve also liked you for years, you big dumb idiot.”

Harry tries to suppress his grin, but he can’t. His face splits up in a giant smile, heart beating fast in his chest, in the rhythm of a mantra saying _Louis likes me_...

Louis looks down, and Harry smiles at the fact that the tips of his ear are red, showing he is blushing too. 

Louis takes a breath and rises on his two knees, looking down at Harry. The latter feels pinned to the ground, more to his roof, really, crushed by the weight of Louis’ forceful fixed stare. He sees the same hesitation in Louis’ eyes that he had a few minutes earlier. And now he understands why.

Louis had wanted to kiss him down there, in front of Harry’s door. But right now, up on their conjoining roof, their safe haven, in their little bubble, it is the perfect place to do it.

And just like earlier after their dance, Louis cups Harry’s cheek with one hand. His touch is gentle, but less uncertain than earlier because this time Louis is determined to do it.

He kisses Harry.

Harry’s mind is spinning fast, his heart is beating fast, he feels like he’s going to fall for real this time, but thank god Louis is holding him. Grounding him. Anchoring him. 

Louis kisses Harry like he touches and speaks to him. Gently, carefully, with all the best intentions in the world. His lips are soft and hot, and they fit so well with Harry’s. Just like it was meant to be.

Louis’ thumb is caressing Harry’s cheek, and Harry dares to open his mouth, letting Louis explore him a bit more. They kiss slowly, yet fervently and it leaves Harry’s breathless by the end of it. Louis’ lips disappear, but he doesn’t pull away entirely, with his face only inches away from Harry’s. But he has to back away eventually, because he was holding himself with one hand resting on Harry’s roof, and Harry doesn’t want him to fall.

“It would be a shame if you’d fall now,” Harry whispers breathlessly, looking down at the ground under them.

“That would be a beautiful end, after kissing you,” Louis shrugs while taking back his place on his rooftop. Harry wants him closer already. “Imagine!” Louis gestures with his hands, announcing the next headline of the newspaper: “A boy falls off his rooftop after an astonishing strike from his best friend, who left him breathless.” 

“You’ve always had a dramatic side,” Harry giggles, rolling his eyes.

Louis grins, winking at him. Harry thinks this is the best night of his life. He still feels Louis’ lips on his, a lingering touch that leaves Harry craving more. He would spend the night kissing Louis, if he could.

Louis shifts under his gaze, a smile on his face and a soft-eyed look saying, ‘ _Me too_ ’. “Good night, Harold. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That night, Harry goes to sleep with the blissful memory of Louis’ touch and lips, Eric Clapton’s song reasoning in his head, his voice speaking Harry’s mind: _And I say, “Yes, I feel wonderful tonight.”_

~

Things don’t change after that. Harry didn’t expect it to.

They are Louis and Harry, and that is a fact. Maybe they’re a bit more bashful when they’re together, exchanging shy and secretive smiles, always looking at each other with bitten lips. But they’re still Louis and Harry.

The day after the wonderful night, Harry goes with Louis to the HQ (the boys didn’t come because they were still hangover, of course they were). He watches Louis warm up (he may have also got an eyeful of Louis’ bum a few times when he was doing his warms up) and trains before the match tomorrow. Harry joins him after his training, and they play a match, spending the day together, as always, laughing and talking, but with a little addition: kisses. 

It’s nice, and nothing can bring down their good mood. Not even when Louis gets a text message from Zayn, wishing him good luck for the match tomorrow. In fact, Louis even replies to him.

~

Today is Sunday. Today is the day. The match is at three o’clock in the afternoon, but the team has been reunited for their usual meeting since half past eleven. They ate fish and chips at the nearest restaurant, and now they’re back at the HQ, getting ready. The match starts in thirty minutes.

Louis is tying his shoes, glancing at Harry. He smiles at him when their eyes meet, the usual sweet and private smile that Louis always has for Harry.

Harry is so lost in his thoughts, gazing at his best friend (they haven’t really talked about that yet... the b word) that he doesn’t notice when Niall stops beside him.

He turns his head, looking at his blonde friend with a raising eyebrow. “What?” he asks, when it is clear that Niall isn’t going to say anything.

Niall stays silent for a few more seconds before shrugging, looking away. “Nothing,” he says, watching Louis. “I was just trying to figure out if I won my bet. Time will tell.” And with that, he claps Harry on the back and goes join Andy, Liam, and Stanley, who are standing a few meters away.

Harry snorts, squaring his shoulders as Louis approaches him. “What’s up, H?”

Harry shrugs carelessly. “Our friend is an idiot, but what else is new?” Louis snorts. “You ready?”

Louis nods, cracking his knuckles. “More than ready.”

The football match takes place at the esplanade, and everyone of the town is welcomed to join, of course. When they started le foot de rue, no one really paid attention to their games, until it became a bit more popular. It even draws the attention of professional football players, and recruiters. Harry sincerely hopes Louis will be noticed one day, or maybe even the other boys. Everyone playing, actually. They all deserve it. They may play for fun in the streets of their city, but they’re playing with passion in the first place. 

“Let’s go crush them!” Liam yells, bumping his fist in the air.

The rest of the boys join him, and Louis beams. They do their sports-team chant together, Harry including. And then they’re on their way to the victory.

~

The game starts in five minutes, and the boys are about to go on the field when Harry’s body betrays him. He reaches to grasp Louis’ arm, who doesn’t startle at the touch but frowns at Harry’s gesture.

He stays back, the boys going on the “field“ (because in le foot de rue, the whole city can be the field, even if they have their limits).

“I–” Harry starts, glancing between the esplanade behind Louis and his best friend. “Just wanted to say good luck to you.” He drops his arm, flushing.

Louis beams, facing Harry. “Will I be lucky enough to get a good luck kiss?” Louis asks Harry, cheekily.

Harry gives him a dimpled smile, nodding slightly. He leans closer to Louis, who doesn’t move. Their cheeks are touching, Harry’s hot breath is tickling Louis’ ear as he whispers a ‘good luck’ in his ear, before kissing him on the cheek.

Louis’ face is slightly pink, and he nods before running to join his teammates. 

It’s brief, but when Harry glances at Niall, the Irish lad’s teeth shine bright, flashing Harry a smile full of enjoyment. Harry’s mouth twitches, fighting a smile. He hates this boy.

~

Harry’s legs are hurting, and he probably has lost his voice but it doesn’t matter. They’ve won. Their team won.

He’s still cheering as his team, Dream Killers, is congratulating the defeated one: Ball Busters. He’s still grinning hard, when Louis runs toward him and they high five. He’s bouncing everywhere, heart also jumping in his chest, when Dream Killers receive a homemade cup, rewarded by the mayor of their city himself.

To Harry’s surprise, and especially to Louis’, at some point Zayn appears, standing out from the rest of his friends in the crowd, and come to congratulate the boys, even hugging Liam. When he arrives at Louis’ level, Zayn hesitates a few seconds before holding out his hand. Harry watches, biting his lips nervously, as Louis regards his hand before shaking it. Harry exhales, relieved, as he watches the boy he loves smiling genuinely for the first time at Zayn.

“Well done, Louis,” Zayn says, putting his hands in his pocket, suddenly diffident.

“Thank you,” Louis answers, his soft lips stretched into a smile. “Zayn.”

It’s a start.

~

To celebrate the victory, the whole team and their family go to _Catherine’s_ , ordering many drinks and talking enthusiastically.

On the way, Louis and Harry deliberately hang back, walking side by side, their hands slightly brushing. Harry ponders whether to do it or not, and then decides _'fuck it'_. He tugs on Louis’ hand, and pulls him into the nearest alley, hidden from everyone else.

Louis’ back hits the wall, and he stares at Harry with wide-eyed. “Harold?” he demands, lips lifted upwards. Harry doesn’t answer. He places his hands on Louis’ shoulders, and leans forward, kissing him on the mouth.

He swallows Louis’ intake of breath, and shudders when Louis’ hands find their way to his waist, automatically wrapping around him. They don’t kiss long, just one single kiss, but then, when Harry pulls away, he pecks Louis on the mouth once again. Then he pulls away completely, a satisfied grin on his face.

“That was a congratulatory kiss,” Harry explains smugly, when he notes Louis’ apparent loss for words.

“Cheeky,” replies Louis with a smirk.

“Just to make sure,” Harry starts, uncertain. “You... You wanna be my boyfriend?”

Louis smiles, his perfectly white and very adorable teeth perfectly aligned. “Are you waiting for a confirmation on my part, or asking me?”

Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck, his face closer to Louis. “Both?” He shrugs, cheeks starting to hurt because of his constant smile. And yes, that’s what he loves the most about Louis. Louis can always make him smile.

Louis kisses him, a quick peck on the lips, smile still present on his face. “Boyfriends then,” he simply says, because yeah, it’s that simple. It always has been with them.

When they go join the others a few moments later, holding hands, Harry sees Liam handing Niall some money. Harry rolls his eyes when Niall cheers, a smug face on, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

They spend the rest of the afternoon drinking for their victory, Harry’s hand clasped with Louis’ as their friends cheer and congratulate them, Gemma smirking knowingly, as well as Anne and Johannah... Because everyone knew.

~

**Two years later**

Harry is waiting for Louis on his rooftop, watching the night sky full of stars. He can’t believe he’s going to university soon, and that Louis will be off in Liverpool, having been accepted into one of the best Youth Academies. Everything will be different from now on. There will be a distance between their two hearts, but Harry is confident in their relationship. It’s going to hold. That’s maybe why Louis and Harry decided to do what they did.

Harry stretches his arm out, looking down at his wrist. The inked tattoo stands out in the night: an anchor. An arm appears next to his. At the same spot, inked on the smooth tanned skin: a rope. 

Harry lifts his eyes, smile already on his lips. “Hey sweetcheeks.”

Louis sits there, on his rooftop, his arm out. He shares the same smile. “Hey babycakes.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Thank you for reading.**
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